


Courtship

by meevees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Courtship, F/M, Post Game, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but so is byleth tbh, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meevees/pseuds/meevees
Summary: With the war finally at an end, Claude decides that Byleth deserves the chance to be properly courted before marriage.Or at least, as proper as courting can get when it's coming from a mysterious foreign king halfway across the world. To whom she's already engaged.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 34
Kudos: 399





	Courtship

Byleth isn’t bitter about the way Claude proposed to her then promptly went gallivanting back to Almyra, not really. She is disappointed, certainly, but she can’t find it in herself to be angry at him. He has his own personal business to attend to, after all, and responsibilities that exist beyond the borders of Fodlan. She understands why he had to go, and how important the work he is doing now is towards achieving their ultimate goal of reuniting.

Besides, Byleth has faith in Claude, so she doesn’t feel as though she needs him here with her to constantly reaffirm his love for her. Their relationship has never been typical anyway. Growing up with a sleeping goddess inside of her as she had, Byleth never had much interest in boys and romance, or relationships in general. When Sothis’ awakening had awoken Byleth’s emotions along with it, and eventually her feelings for Claude, they’d been too busy fighting a war to find much time for romance. Neither of them ever minded; they had each other, and that was enough.

She does occasionally find herself wishing she had Claude with her now, as much for his advice as his comfort. She’d had the role of queen thrust upon her as quickly as Claude’s proposal and subsequent disappearing act, and he was much more adept at all of this political nonsense than she was. But she worked hard to do her best for her people, just as she knew Claude was doing back in his own new kingdom.

It had caused quite a stir in Byleth’s court when Holst Goneril had shown up in Derdriu with the news of the sudden and unexpected regime change in Almyra. Everyone’s nerves were heightened. The former king of Almyra had mostly left Fodlan to its own devices, besides occasional skirmishes at the border which the Almyrans seemed to view as sport more than anything. If the new king proved to be more aggressive in his foreign policy, their fledgling country would be in trouble. Fodlan was still desperately fragile as it recovered from its own war; while the locket had done its job in protecting their land border all of these years, they were in no position to face down the full might of the famed Almyra navy should their new neighbor decide to invade by sea. And they’d chosen coastal Derdriu as their new capital.

Byleth knew there was nothing to worry about, of course, but in keeping her promise to Claude to maintain his secret for now, she did not soothe anyone else’s concern on the subject. 

The change in leadership in Almyra was the result of a coup as her soldiers and informants at Fodlan’s Throat had described it, the youngest prince having overthrown his father. Byleth knew that wasn’t exactly accurate either. Claude had explained the process to her before he departed. He said that while Almyra also maintained a single royal family, rule was passed down to the most deserving son or daughter, not the eldest. And in a culture that placed so much value on strength, naturally being the most deserving meant being the strongest. Claude had defeated his father in a sanctioned test of strength and earned his new role just as his father had once done himself, going back for generations. If the result had caused any unrest in Almyra, it was not because of the seemingly violent nature of Claude’s ascendancy, but because it was the former king’s only mixed son who had proven strong enough to claim the throne. 

She could hardly blame Holst and his men for misinterpreting the political ramifications of the change, though. Alymran culture was vastly different from fodlan’s in this way, and they didn’t have the benefit of an explanation from the new king himself.

Almyra had been quiet in the few months since the coronation of its new king, but the whole of the royal estate knew it was only a matter of time before he made his intentions for the relationship between their two nations known. So it was hardly a surprise when the emissary from the Almyran capital arrived in Derdriu. 

Claude had proven himself as wily as ever, though, because the message his emissary brought surprised even Byleth.

“His Majesty Khalid, 9th king of the 3rd Almyran dynasty, wishes to express his desire to court Her Majesty Byleth, first queen of the United Kingdom of Fodlan.”

Out of the corner of her eye Byleth could see the shock cross Seteth’s features before he fixed his face with a more neutral expression. Byleth had never been one to emote openly, but while she knew it didn’t show on her face she could only admit to being taken aback by Claude’s actions this time as well. She and Claude were already engaged after all, although no one else really knew it. She still wore the ring he had given her each day, although for now she did so by putting it on a chain around her neck, tucked beneath her blouse. As far as everyone else was concerned Claude had vanished as suddenly and mysteriously as his mother once had years before; Byleth knew that if she revealed their engagement it was likely to tip off her more cunning companions that she actually knew where he had gone and what he was up to. But while Claude’s proposal remained a secret, his and Byleth’s intentions for each other never had been, especially to those who had been around the monastery with them during the war. What she intended to do about marriage in the wake of his departure remained the question most were eager to have answered but too afraid to ask.

Byleth could see Claude’s intentions behind this stunt easily enough. This was an act of the Master Tactician, a move designed to fully make use of the political advantages of their union. Strategically, it was a good decision. But it was his willingness to use their relationship as a political chess piece in such a way that left her feeling surprised, and a little uncomfortable if she was completely honest with herself.

There was nothing to do but to see the full extent of Claude’s plan for now, though, so she motioned for the emissary to continue. 

The emissary stepped forward to stand directly before her throne before bending his knee and bowing his head, holding up a thin, velvet lined box. He lifted the lid of the box by its hinges, and Byleth was left shocked for a second time when she saw the gift it contained.

The necklace was extravagant. An intricate gold gorget, its centerpiece was an inlaid piece of turquoise, perfectly ovular and nearly the size of Byleth’s palm. The edges were lined with smaller gemstones, intermittent turquoise and topaz. The whole piece is composed of so much precious metal and stones Byleth wonders how she could even wear such a thing without straining her neck it must be so heavy. It’s absolutely stunning.

It’s also probably worth more than all of the money she ever saw in her lifetime as a mercenary. She can’t exactly still say the same, given that she now controls a royal treasury that comprises the combined wealth of the former Kingdom of Faerghus, Adrestian Empire, and Riegan Dukedom. But that wealth isn’t really hers, it belongs to be people of Fodlan, and she is merely responsible for monitoring its use in their best interest. Byleth has probably never even considered owning something an iota as expensive as this necklace for herself.

Claude’s royal coffers were obviously nothing to sneeze at either.

There was also a letter accompanying the gift, and seeing as that was likely the most revealing piece of this puzzle Claude had just delivered to her, Byleth decided to focus her attention there for now. She opened it and reviewed its contents.

> _My Dearest Byleth,_
> 
> _Words do not exist to express the void your absence has left in my heart, but I shall try._
> 
> _Truly you are the moon in my sky. Your very presence controls the ebb and flow of my emotions, and to be without you is to be stuck at low tide. Furthermore, is it not the moon who provides us light even in the darkness, just as you were my guiding light when this world was at its darkest hour? There are infinite stars in the sky, but there is only one moon, and she outshines them all._
> 
> _With love,_  
>  _Claude_
> 
> _P.S. Forgive me my showmanship, but I couldn’t help but feel after everything you’ve done you deserved to be courted and doted upon properly. I hope you will indulge me in this opportunity to spoil you._
> 
> _Besides, isn’t it more fun this way?_

The uncomfortable feeling Byleth had been experiencing was replaced with a bubbling warmth in her chest. It would seem she had underestimated Claude this time. He surely recognized the political benefits of this decision, and was clearly reveling in the opportunity to mess with their close friends as was his way, but he’d also made it clear that first and foremost this was about her. However they proceeded going forward, they did it on her terms.

Byleth requested materials so that she could pen her response, and an attendant hurriedly brought them to her. It was a little awkward having to write a letter while sitting there on her throne and it probably wouldn’t be her most presentable work. But she hadn’t grown up receiving penmanship lessons the way her noble students all had, so her handwriting wasn’t normally all that impressive anyway. Besides, Claude wouldn’t care.

> _Your Majesty,_
> 
> _Your words are too kind, though I can’t help but feel your analogy could use a little work. After all, the moon does not give off any light of its own, but merely reflects the light it gets from others. Surely I am able to shine on my own?_
> 
> _I look forward to seeing improvement in your future endeavors._
> 
> _Cordially,_  
>  _Byleth_

Byleth grinned to herself as she finished penning the letter. In truth, she found his analogy quite apt. If she was the moon then Claude was the sun, her source of warmth and light where before she had been cold and dull. But if he wanted her to play along in his little game then she was going to play her part to the fullest. And that meant she was going to play a little hard to get.

She sealed her letter and handed it to Claude’s emissary in exchange for the gift box he was still holding out for her. “Please inform His Majesty that I graciously accept both his generous gift and his courtship proposal.”

Byleth had thought Seteth looked shocked before; now he nearly choked on his own saliva in an effort to disguise his spluttering. “Your Majesty--”

He stopped himself before saying any more. Any objections he raised now would go straight back to the ears of the king of Almyra after all. His emissary was still present.

The emissary offered a final deep bow and made to bear the good news back to his king.

Byleth was still grinning. She really was looking forward to seeing what Claude had in store.

* * *

“Professor, you can’t seriously be considering marrying this guy, can you?” 

It had been a few weeks since His Majesty’s proposal had first been presented to Byleth, and by now word of the arrangement had spread throughout Fodlan. Hilda was the latest of her former students to show up to confront her about it.

“I haven’t made any final decisions yet, but there was little reason to refuse his offer.”

Hilda huffed at that. They were seated at a small table in the courtyard of the royal estate having tea together, but even seated Hilda’s body language somehow brought to Byleth’s mind the image of a frustrated toddler stomping her feet around, “Listen, I know Claude’s a huge jerk for just leaving out of nowhere like that. But you know as well as I do that he must have some really important reason for doing so. I can’t believe you’d just blow him off so easily, especially not for the first stranger to offer you a pretty trinket. Even if it is _very_ pretty.”

Byleth frowned. That was not an interpretation of recent events she particularly cared for, “This isn’t about the necklace. It isn’t even about me, or about Claude. If this arrangement works out it could mean real, lasting peace between Fodlan and Almyra. I can’t pass on such an opportunity lightly. And you have to agree that’s something that would make Claude happy, too.”

It would make Claude a lot more happy than Hilda even knew. But that was a truth for another day.

Hilda did not look placated by Byleth’s explanation. She looked sad. “But when will it finally get to be about _you_ , Professor?”

Byleth didn’t know what to say to that. Hilda’s response had caught her off guard, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. Byleth had made plenty of sacrifices throughout their campaign against the Adrestian Empire, but they all had; that was the reality of war. She was surprised to hear Hilda suggest she didn’t think Byleth lived or acted for herself. Then again, it was essentially the same reasoning Claude had offered for starting this whole courtship plot in the first place.

Had she really been so caught up in looking out for all of them that she’d failed to even notice herself?

She was saved from having to formulate a response, fortunately, by an attendant who had interrupted to inform her another messenger had just arrived from Almyra.

“Okay, I still totally disagree with this whole situation, but I’ve gotta see what His Majesty sent you this time.”

Byleth smiled coyly at Hilda’s sudden eagerness despite all of her protestations, but she was eager as well. They quickly made their way together to the audience chamber.

First things first, Byleth read the latest letter from Claude.

> _My Dearest Byleth,_
> 
> _Please accept my deepest apologies for any offense I may have caused with my subpar comparison. The fault lay in my attempt to equate your beauty and grace to anything at all. Even the celestial bodies themselves simply cannot compare to you, my love._
> 
> _Unfortunately, I remain limited to expressing my love through language that could never truly do you justice. Putting the words to paper clearly is not enough, so I thought this time I may try another means to get my feelings across. I hope that it is to your liking, and that it might allow me to convey even a fraction of my love._
> 
> _Yours always,_  
>  _Claude_

Byleth felt her cheeks heating, the combination of formal and earnest words from Claude causing an unexpected rush of emotions. There was no tongue in cheek postscript this time to help her regulate the embarrassment or the excitement she felt.

This letter had come accompanied by an entire performance troupe. They regaled their small audience with song and dance now; stringed instruments provided an upbeat and rhythmic melody as the backdrop for a beautifully choreographed belly dancing performance unlike anything one could normally see in Fodlan.

Then there was the bard, whose lyrics were all about Byleth herself. Throughout it all he sang an ode to her divine beauty and miraculous deeds. If Byleth had felt flush before, she knew she was properly red faced by the end of the performance.

“Well, the king of Almyra has certainly done his homework on you,” Seteth spoke casually once the performers had taken their leave, referring to the accuracy and detail of the lyrics presented. He was obviously trying to downplay what they all knew had been an incredible performance.

Or he was just there for most of the things he described, Byleth thought idly. But as embarrassing as it was to admit, this most recent display of Claude’s affection really had left her feeling quite bashful. She didn’t trust herself to say much in this moment, but she did manage, “He must be quite serious about his intentions, to show such attention to detail.”

She couldn’t manage a reply right away this time, so she waited until she had retired to her chambers that evening to write her response. Her emotions having calmed considerably in that time, she remained resolute in her conviction to tease Claude in much the same way he was teasing her.

> _Your Majesty,_
> 
> _You have outdone yourself this time. The performance was lovely, and the dancers especially were absolutely magnificent. Your objective was achieved; the song conveyed emotions in a way a simple letter could never hope to achieve._
> 
> _However, perhaps the words would be more sincere if they came directly from the source. If you intend to win me over through song, it seems as though_ you _should be the one serenading me._
> 
> _Yours,_  
>  _Byleth_

* * *

In the weeks that followed the courtship gifts and letters continued to pour in from Almyra. 

There were a wide variety of foods from fruits, to baked goods, to sweets. Byleth's favorite treat by far were little white candies full of pistachios that melted deliciously in her mouth. When she'd expressed her taste for them Claude had made a point to send a batch along with every gift thereafter, much to her satisfaction. They'd been the key to winning over Lysithea's favor in support of the Almyran king; all it took was for Byleth to share a few of the candies with her youngest student before she was proclaiming that Claude had always been more trouble than he was worth anyway. Byleth could only laugh at that.

There were many gifts of clothing as well. Byleth had never been particularly fond of dresses as Claude well knew; she found them to be stuffy and far too restricting of her movement. But the Almyran dresses were so light and airy and flowed so loosely that she found she didn’t mind them. After Byleth expressed interest in the Almyran dancers he had even sent her one of their traditional garments, which he explained was called a _bedlah_. Seteth had scoffed in distaste at that particular gift, even moreso when he noticed Flayn eyeing it wistfully. But it wasn’t meant for Seteth’s eyes anyway. That particular garment she would probably save until she and Claude were finally reunited again.

For all her complaining about Byleth accepting the courtship proposal, Hilda certainly enjoyed trying on all of Byleth’s new dresses, and dressing Marianne up with them as well. Eventually she admitted that Claude was an idiot for disappearing without so much as a warning, and if he lost his chance because of it that was his own fault. Marianne humbly expressed that she was sure Claude had his reasons for leaving, but she agreed it wouldn’t be fair of him to expect Byleth to wait around for him forever in the meantime.

Byleth would be sure to pass their criticisms along to Claude when she next had the opportunity. He would probably get a kick out of it.

Her favorite gift so far had been a sword. Its thin blade was a deep curve that tapered into a fine, sharp tip. The hilt and the sheath were a gorgeous smooth ebony, the cross-guard a brightly polished silver with another turquoise inlay. She wouldn’t be replacing the Sword of the Creator any time soon, but it was a beautiful weapon, and she proudly displayed it in her audience chamber for all who visited.

The performances continued as well, intermittent amongst the more tangible gifts. More dances, songs, poetry readings. And Byleth was at the center of all of them. Eventually she learned to curb her embarrassment at the attention enough to enjoy them all with a smile, and even earnestly look forward to them. It was hard not to look forward to all of it, when the love and care Claude had put into each and every detail was so apparent.

And if the love and thought put into the gifts didn’t speak for itself, Claude’s letters certainly did. Byleth had never realized he was capable of such romance. Claude knew how to turn a phrase, how to move people with his words and inspire many different feelings. But here he just poured his heart out with every single word. He was being intentionally coy as he did it, continuing the charade of the distant suitor with the way he formed his sentences, but the genuine nature of his feelings came through all the same.

Byleth continued to rebut him in her replies--it was Claude himself who said it was more fun this way, after all--but she was always light-hearted about it, and made sure he still knew how much she appreciated all that he was doing for her. 

The latest letter was a curiosity, as it seemed to have come all on its own, no extravagant gifts or flamboyantly dressed performers in tow. She wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change, but there was only one way to find out.

> _My Dearest Byleth,_
> 
> _In previous letters you have expressed scorn that I was not present to deliver my affections to you directly. It is my greatest regret that I cannot be there with you in person, whether to shower you with gifts or simply enjoy the warmth and comfort of your presence. Given the choice, I would never leave your side again._
> 
> _Since I cannot promise to always remain with you physically, instead I offer this latest gift in the hope that when we are forced to part we will be able to return to each other as swiftly as possible. Also know that you are always with me in my heart and mind, and that I aspire each and every day to be a man you chose to carry with yourself in such a way as well._
> 
> _Oh, and you may need to step outside to receive this particular gift._
> 
> _With all of my love,_  
>  _Claude_

Now Byleth was desperately curious. She inquired with the messenger, who confirmed that there was something more waiting outside the estate for her. She quickly followed to discover what it was. On the front of the estate grounds she found a second messenger speaking animatedly with Cyril in Almyran.

They were wrangling a wyvern.

Byleth's eyes widened at the sight. He was magnificent: covered in shiny, jet black scales with bright golden-brown eyes. He was smaller than most wyverns she had seen although he still towered over the humans in his company, and he was crowing playfully, seemingly looking for attention. She strolled over to him.

Cyril finally noticed her approaching, "Oh, hi Professor. This is a gift for ya from the king of Almyra, apparently."

He spoke so casually, as if he wasn't as aware as everyone else around the estate that the king in question had been showering Byleth with extravagant gifts for months. Then again, Cyril had never been the sort to pay attention to such things. Maybe he really hadn't noticed.

Byleth reached out a hand for the wyvern to give her an inquisitive sniff before she stroked along the side of his neck. He leaned so completely into her touch he nearly knocked her over. She laughed, "He's amazing. I've never seen a black one before."

"They're pretty rare," Cyril explained, "Almost as rare as the white ones like Claude has. Oh, sorry, I know ya probably don't want to think about Claude much right now."

Maybe Cyril was a little more aware than she gave him credit for. And his heart was in the right place, even if Byleth was actually thinking a lot about Claude right now and particularly how much she would like to kiss him. This was easily the best gift yet.

"He's pretty young, which is why he's so little." Cyril continued, eager to move on from his perceived faux pas, "the Almyrans told me he probably still needs some more training, but I can help with that. And it's good, 'cause you'll be able to really bond with him."

Byleth was scratching under the wyvern's chin. He chirped happily, causing her to smile. So far she could only agree that bonding didn't seem to be an issue for the two of them.

She couldn't find it in herself to send Claude a cheeky reply this time. All she could do was thank him from the bottom of her heart.

* * *

Unfortunately, circumstances led to her courtship by the king of Almyra to be put on the back burner.

They’d known not all of Those of Slither in the Dark had been underground when the Javelins of Light had dropped, of course, because they’d been scattered throughout Fodlan integrated into the imperial army. But when the remaining numbers were quiet, particularly in the aftermath of Nemesis’s defeat, they’d been naive enough to believe it was a problem they could wait to solve another day. 

Now they knew the remaining Agarthans had been so quiet because they’d been stirring up unrest in the Adrestian territory, and gathering dissenters who were still loyal to the former empire. And that rebel army they’d amassed was marching swiftly and efficiently toward Derdriu.

It was not a good situation for their young country. Fodlan’s “army” was really still three separate forces, as they had yet to come up with a plan to formally unite them all under a single banner even if they now fought for a common cause. The division went even further if one looked to Leicester, where the army was more like a group of small militias who all served their individual lords. And many of the soldiers from Adrestia could be counted amongst the numbers that had turned coat and were now marching against them. Those soldiers who remained in all three territories were more than willing to fight for their country, and their generals happy to provide troops, but organizing and deploying them all quickly enough to address the threat that had so suddenly snuck up on them was proving difficult, if not impossible. Fodlan simply didn’t have the infrastructure in place yet.

Not to mention they were a nation freshly recovering from a brutal war. They didn’t have the resources to fight another one so soon.

“I’m not sure how else to say this, but the situation is dire,” Shamir explained calmly. Faces all around the war council were grim, “We’ll likely slow them down at Myrddin, but looking at their numbers versus the troops we’ve been able to rally on this side of the Oghma Mountains there’s almost no chance we’ll stop them. I suspect they’ll make it to Derdriu in two weeks. Three at most, depending on how long we can hold them at the bridge.”

The atmosphere in the room was heavy. Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time. They weren’t ready.

Byleth considered the details carefully. As far as she could see, there was only one possible way Fodlan emerged from this conflict intact. The cost of lives might be great, far greater than she cared to pay, but she didn’t see any other options.

“House Riegan’s troops should remain here in Derdriu. Send any other forces we have available to Myrddin. We need them to hold the bridge as long as they possibly can. In the meantime, any citizens who can evacuate to Edmund territory should, as many as possible. We will reroute as many supplies as we can afford to there to support the shift.”

Seteth was nodding slowly, though he still looked uncertain, “That’s all well and good, but what do you plan to do once they break through our forces at the Great Bridge of Myrddin? House Riegan’s soldiers alone won’t be nearly enough to defend the capital.”

Byleth was already beginning to write, “I’m calling in reinforcements.”

“That’s risky,” Judith added, “If you pull too many more troops away from Faerghus territory, they will be vulnerable to attack. And it’s too late to call in any more from Adrestia, they are already too far behind enemy lines.”

“Not a problem, I am calling in reinforcements from Almyra.”

“With all due respect, Byleth, that’s even riskier.” Seteth answered, frantic. Several other people around the table had begun muttering nervously to each other. 

It was times like these that Claude’s penchant for secrets was particularly frustrating. There was no risk free scenario in war, one risked their life every time they stepped onto the battlefield. But the risks that Seteth and the others found themselves so concerned with in this case were actually nonexistent. Of course Claude would help them in any way he could. But Byleth couldn’t explain that now.

“If the king of Almyra is really so serious about uniting our nations, this is his chance to prove it.” she answered instead, finishing her letter to Claude and sealing it shut. 

“And if he’s not?” Seteth countered. “If his intentions prove disingenuous and we let his army through our borders only to be attacked we will have no chance of fending them off. Fodlan will be doomed.”

“And if we accept our current odds and try to fight as we are now, Fodlan is likely still doomed. Our best chance of survival now is to request Almyra’s aid, which means we need to trust in her king. I _do_ trust him.”

The war council did not look as confident in her words as she was, but they were placated at least. No one offered any further protest and her missive was sent off to Almyra as fast as it could be delivered. 

Now they just had to survive until Claude got here.

***

Their soldiers fought valorously at Myrddin, buying Derdriu the three weeks of preparation that had been their best case scenario, although it was still hardly enough. Those that could had pursued the rebel army from the great bridge as well, so now that the rebels were in the city they were flanked. It was a strong advantage for Fodlan in terms of positioning, although it did little to compensate for their lack of numbers.

Byleth was cutting through the rebels with everything she had, fighting them two at a time when she could. Everything they had fought so hard for, had sacrificed so much for, was on the line today. Claude’s dream, which had become her own as well, and which had just barely begun to sprout. She couldn’t let it end here. But they were running out of time, and her troops were running out of stamina.

When she first heard a wyvern cry out in the distance she could have fainted from relief, if she weren’t needed so desperately on the battlefield. A few more minutes past and finally the Almyra army was visible on the horizon, hundreds of them on horseback, even more blotting out the sky on the backs of wyverns. Even from such a distance their collective war cry was deafening as they charged full speed toward Derdriu. 

The battle didn’t last long after their arrival. Fodlan’s victory was decisive.

The morning after the battle as Byleth prepared to take audience she made a point of wearing her turquoise and gold necklace. She had a feeling she knew exactly who she would be receiving today, after all.

When Claude strolled into the audience chamber in his full regalia and wearing a lopsided grin Seteth’s expression was as priceless as it had ever been. He looked completely perplexed; his gaze passed back and forth between Claude and Byleth until his brow furrowed and he seemed to realize how much they both had pulled the wool over his eyes these past few months.

“I should have known.” He muttered, although the comment seemed directed primarily at himself. Neither Claude nor Byleth offered a response. He really should have known.

Claude came to stand before her and bowed deeply, although he couldn’t quite wipe the grin off his face or hide the mirth in his voice as he said, “Your Majesty.”

Byleth rolled her eyes at him.

“Ah, that looks lovely on you,” Claude continued right on as if he hadn’t noticed her reaction, his attention falling on the necklace she wore, “I knew it would. Everything does, after all.”

Byleth ignored his comment as well. If he really wanted to continue playing games then she wasn’t going to lose by dropping character first, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence here today, Your Majesty?”

“Well, I thought it was only appropriate that I confirm the results of my courting in person. You know, since I was in the neighborhood.”

Byleth paused before answering, as if she were really weighing her options in her mind, “That depends.”

Claude frowned ever so slightly. It was just for an instant, and anyone else would probably have missed it, but to Byleth it was as clear as day, “Depends on?”

She smirked at him, “What gift you’ve brought me today, naturally.”

“In that case I think we’re both in luck, as I’ve brought the greatest gift of all today.” A pause for dramatic effect. “It’s myself, of course.”

If he were close enough Byleth would have smacked him upside the head. But it was also the truth; she could think of no greater gift than finally having him here with her again. Byleth was quickly tiring of this charade. Now they were just wasting time they could be spending properly appreciating each other’s company.

Claude seemed to be feeling the same, “Come on, Teach, the suspense is killing me here. How did I do?”

This time Byleth smiled at him genuinely, “It was all lovely, Claude. Thank you for everything. Of course I accept your proposal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry folks, still actively working on a goddess rises with the dawn, but this idea started buzzing around in my head last night and wouldn't leave me alone so I just had to take the day to write it down
> 
> Also Claude's name is Khalid now so???
> 
> I tried to include some Persian influence in the gifts Claude sends to Byleth since that culture is the primary inspiration for Almyra but I am by no means an expert on the subject so I intentionally avoided being too specific. If anything seems funky/inaccurate to that end please let me know and I will happily amend.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
